Late Night Rage
by AliceInScribbleLand
Summary: Wilson is angry at both House and Cuddy's actions. Post Season 5 finale.
1. Chapter 1

Cuddy heard the knock on her door. She shivered in expectation as an unconscious grin spread across her face. There was only one person who ever stopped by that late. As she climbed out of bed, she grabbed the skimpiest of her robes off the back of her door and put it on. Walking towards the front of her home, she knotted it loosely, exposing a bit too much cleavage.

As she opened the door, she was startled to find Wilson standing on her doorstep. "Wilson," she said, the surprise and disappointment not nearly as well hidden, as she'd like.

"Hey Cuddy," he greeted, unsuccessfully trying not to stare at her chest. He shifted his weight from side to side, as he wiped his mouth nervously.

Cuddy inwardly groaned and had to resist rolling her eyes. This was not her night. "What can I do for you?" she asked, trying to hide any annoyance lurking in her tone. She was still upset with him for asking House to do the deep brain stimulation.

The situation in her mind had been ridiculous. How many times in one week, could a man willingly brush against death, while not even sure it would help? Even when House had had enough, was ready to rest, and finally take care of himself, Wilson pushed him even further. He had asked his best friend to risk his life, on something that might not have even changed things.

"I… um… can I come in?" He sounded nervous. "I just," he sighed, "I just really need to talk."

Cuddy closed her eyes and nodded. Moving aside to let him in, she tried to adjust her robe a little more modestly. Cuddy headed towards her couch, but turned when she heard the deadbolt of her front door slide in place.

Wilson was staring at her lustfully; blatantly taking in as much with his eyes as he could. He took a step towards her, but she was too shocked to realize he had closed the distance between them. Bending down, he caught her lips with his.

Instincts finally kicking in, Cuddy shoved him away. "What the hell?" she asked, angrily.

"I'm sorry Lisa, really. I should…uh…I should go," he said, as he started to leave. However, he stopped just as swiftly as he had begun. Wilson turned to face her once again and kissed her a little harsher. He crushed her against him and forced his mouth against hers.

Straining against him, Cuddy realized she only had one alternative. Closing her eyes she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and bit down on his bottom lip. Now that he was distracted, she pulled back and slapped him across the face.

Something in his eyes changed, in that moment. He wiped a speck of blood off his lip, before he grasped her wrists and unkindly held them behind her back. She struggled against him, but he just laughed bitterly at her efforts. "I should have guessed as much," he said, almost painfully. He leaned down and kissed her again, forcing his tongue inside her mouth.

When she began to fight again, he tilted his head down lower and began to bite and suck on her neck. As she quietly started to cry, he decided it was time to change positions.

Wilson backed her up against the arm of her sofa and let go of her arms. His hips pressed firmly against hers, held her in place. The oncologist opened her robe and slid the sash out of the loops that held it. Laying the sash on his shoulder, he removed her robe completely, letting it pool on the flooring below.

Cuddy tried to fight him off, but he smacked her face with a loud crack. "Bitch," he hissed, through clenched teeth.

Using the silk belt from her robe, he secured her wrists, once again, behind her back. He twisted her around and pinned her to the couch. Leaning back slightly, he ripped the straps of her spaghetti strap and forced it down to her waist.

"Wilson, please stop," Cuddy pleaded, tears now coursing down her cheeks. She knew she had no way left to get him off her. Frantically, she scanned the room for any sort of help.

He rested his hands on her now bare waist for a moment before sprawling them across the smooth soft skin of her abdomen. Wilson kissed her shoulder, delicately. Even though his touch was now tender, she had never felt dirtier.

She lowered her head, as she wept. That was when she saw it, her escape. Her cell phone lay in the crook of the couch wide open. Her hands were still tied, but she hoped that she could trigger the voice activation from her position. "My girlfriend died Lisa! He killed her, and you…where were you? You stayed by his side the whole fucking time."

Cuddy hadn't had any idea that Wilson would be so angered by her actions. She knew that part of his rage was towards her, but that a lot of it was bitterness towards House. "He needed a friend Wilson. He needed someone there with him. Nothing that I could have done would have made things easier for you," she said, already sounding somewhat defeated.

"So you chose him over me, once again." His thumbs started to move across her ribs as he spoke. In that moment, he caressed her pale skin as if he cherished her.

She shivered under his touch. He was making her skin crawl, but she had nowhere to go. "Wilson-" she trailed off, unsure of what to say.

His voice started out even and steady, but the more he talked the angrier it got. "He fucks you and everyone else over time and time again, yet, he is never the bad guy. He killed my girlfriend and instead of feeling remorse or getting some sort of punishment, he gets you. I'm tired of letting that monster get away with everything."

That was it! Her one shot. The exhilaration and apprehension were enough for her to forget about the fingers groping unsympathetically at her chest. She spoke loudly, but calmly, "How dare you! Wilson you know it wasn't his fault. He's your friend," she hesitated, taking a deep apprehensive breath before continuing, "How can you… CALL HOUSE a monster?" She watched with relief. As her phone lit up and dialed. The only thought in her head was how desperately she needed him to answer.

She realized Wilson was screaming at her again and tuned back in. "… he is! I'm sick of witnessing him get everything he wants. My life was upturned and you offered him all the comfort anyone could ask for. I didn't even get asked if I was all right. Well, I came here tonight giving you one last shot, and I can't even get a pity fuck out of you." He leaned closer whispering provocatively in her ear, "But don't worry Lisa, I plan on getting plenty of comfort from you tonight."

With that said, Wilson tugged all her remaining clothes down her hips and off her body. She sniffled, as she hoarsely whispered, "Please stop Wilson." "Shut up," he shouted, angrily.

House couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had tried talking, before he caught on that no one was holding the phone. After quickly calling the police on his home phone, he was in his car driving to Cuddy's. He remained on the phone, not wanting to break the one connection he had with her now.

In the meantime, Wilson had managed to get his pants and boxers down around his ankles. "You look so good Lisa. I'm going to enjoy this. I haven't had relief since Amber," he said, moaning against her ear. "Tell me _Doctor_ Cuddy," he used the formal title sarcastically, as he teased himself against her opening, "Did you comfort House like this?" He was frustrated at the lack of moisture between her legs.

"You call him a monster, but House would never act like this. He would never force anyone."

He spat in his palm and rubbed it coarsely against her hole. She squirmed to move away, but he wouldn't let her. He repeated his previous action, but this time massaged the saliva along his shaft. "Oh well, this is going to hurt you much more than me, "Wilson quipped.

As he forced himself into her, holding on to her hips, Cuddy let out a heart-wrenching scream. "Fuck you're tight Lisa, it's a shame you're not wet." She lost all awareness and attempted to focus on denying the pleasure of hearing her cry out again. "So you never answered me. Did you give dear old Greg any comfort? Did you let him fuck you?"

When she didn't respond, he reached around and clutched her throat in a bruising grip. "Answer me!"

"No, we didn't sleep together!"she said, furiously. He was pounding inside her painfully, and she gritted her teeth in order to stay emotionless.

"He didn't put his cock inside your pretty little pussy Lisa? Are you sure?"

"I swear," she rasped, panting for breath.

Wilson could feel her beginning to get a little wet. He wasn't sure if it was a natural response to the friction, or a reaction to his words, but he decided to run with it. "But I bet you wanted him to, didn't you? You wanted him to bend you over and take you. I bet he wouldn't have to fight you."

She was crying hard, sobs wracking through her.

House was disgusted by what he heard. He couldn't get to her home fast enough, no matter how quickly he tried. There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to kill Wilson when he got there.

Wilson's hands were groping roughly at her chest; he was pinching and pulling painfully.

She was sure that her breasts would be covered in bruises before the night was over.

He leaned closer as he picked up his pace, panting now, "You want him to, don't you?"

She kept her body still, but god his observations were so accurate.

"You want him to come here at night and fuck you. Come here and rape you," he paused, waiting. He could tell, by the way that her body was stiffening that he was on to something. He was close to finishing.

"Yes god dammit; you're right." She was tired of this and needed to hurt him, as much as he was hurting her. "It would more than turn me on and Greg would already have me cumming by now. Your sloppy attempt to be him is nothing, but pathetic."

"You bitch," he pushed her over the arm of the couch and pulled out. He spun her around, facing him, and slammed back into her. Wilson pulled at her thighs until he had a good grasp on them. He raised them and held them firmly against his hips. Leaning forward he bit and sucked roughly at her throat.

She cried out and tried to move away from him. This time, instead of his previous smacks, he punched her along the jaw. When her vision cleared, she saw House enter the room.

The site in front of him horrified House. He couldn't believe this was really happening. Hearing what was going on was one thing, but seeing Cuddy so panic stricken and in so much agony, was not something he was prepared for. All he could focus on was her; he had to save her, protect her; she was his. The alpha male impulse kicked in as he aimed his cane and slammed it hard into Wilson's kidney.

Wilson cried out as he fell towards Cuddy, tilting her backwards at what looked to be a horribly painful angle.

House saw the fear in Cuddy's eyes, the bruise forming along her jaw, her whole body shuddering. He slammed his cane down again, this time going for Wilson's knees.

The police would be there soon, all he had to do was stall Wilson. The Oncologist crumpled to the floor, clutching at his knees. House started to hit him repeatedly in the stomach with the handle of his cane.


	2. Chapter 2

As House heard the four cops stumble in through the front door, he glanced at Cuddy. She was just standing there staring at Wilson, blankly, in shock. House moved to stand in front of her, just before the offices came into view. He stayed like that, not moving, shielding her. He was trying to save the extra bit of shame she might feel. Not noticing her clothes on the ground, he pulled his shirt off and held it out behind him.

"House," she said unsteadily, starting to come back out of it. It killed him to hear her voice sound so timid and broken. "My hands are tied."

House closed his eyes briefly. He turned and met Cuddy's gaze. "I'm sorry," he said, somberly.

"I'm just glad you're here," she said, her bottom lip trembling, before the tears started to fall again. She fell against his chest, and he held her as she wept. Her tears fell against his bare chest.

A moment later, two of the cops started to move Wilson to their car, Cuddy pulled back to speak to House. "Can you help me?" she asked, embarrassed.

He motioned and softly turned her around by her shoulders. He had to brace himself when he saw the bite marks and bruises along her shoulders, they were worse than the ones, he had noticed on her front. House hurriedly pulled her hands free and helped her into his t-shirt. She picked her shorts up off the floor and slid them on as well.

Two of the cops approached House and Cuddy cautiously, needing to speak with them about what was going on. Cuddy instinctively stepped closer to House and grabbed his hand.

The kinder looking of the two cops ducked his head slightly to look at Cuddy. "Ma'm I know this is probably the last thing you want to do right now, but we need to get your statements."

"Okay," she said quietly, not quite meeting his gaze. She looked up at House helplessly. He nodded his understanding, that she needed him to take over.

Addressing the officers, he spoke, "Why don't we move to the kitchen?" He wanted to get her out of that room. If she had to relive the entire thing, at least it could be in a safer environment.

"Anything that you think might help," the older officer said, understanding.

House unlaced his fingers from Cuddy's and slipped a hand around her waist, before she could protest.

XXXXXX

It took forty-five minutes talking to the cops and another hour dealing with the hospital. It was nearly three in the morning when House pulled back into Cuddy's driveway. They made their way quietly out of the car and into her House.

Cuddy led House to the kitchen. Outside of avoiding her living room at all costs and not looking him in the eye, she was acting completely normal. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked, shakily. She set a corkscrew on the counter and started to pull off the paper of the top of a bottle of wine.

House moved in to the side of her, making sure not to block her in. His hands stopped hers, as he spoke, "No, and you don't need one either. Not after tonight, and not with the medicine I'm about to give you."

Cuddy let him take the bottle out of her hands. She wouldn't look at him, but didn't shy away from him either. All her attempts at normalcy, however, were gone. She was tired of being strong, of keeping it together.

Slowly, he turned her around to face him. He didn't make her look at him, just wanted her to know he was real. "You okay Lisa?" It was a stupid question he knew; of course, she wasn't okay.

Cuddy nodded, still not focusing on him. "I'm okay. Thank you for tonight," she said softly. She met his gaze shyly and smiled. He was the one bit of comfort she'd had that evening.

"Are you sure you want to stay here? I could take you back to my place," he offered, again. They had talked about it as they left the hospital, but she had been adamant about returning to her own home. House had no idea how to help her. Cuddy had always taken care of her own problems. She usually knew best when it came to dealing with her emotions.

"No, this is fine." Misunderstanding his concern, she added, "You know, you really don't have to stay. I'll be okay."

House sighed. She was still trying to be strong. Didn't she understand that he wanted to help her? He wanted to be the one she leaned on for support. "I want to stay. Do you honestly think I'd be here if I didn't?"

She shook her head no, staring at the floor. She could feel the tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks. She wanted to give in, to just wrap herself up in his arms and hide there indefinitely.

Watching her shake, House placed a strong-steadying hand on her shoulder. "Lisa," he said, seriously, "Let me take care of you."

She looked up, startled at how well he could read her thoughts. She knew she shouldn't be surprised, but it still amazed her. She studied his eyes for a moment. Finding nothing but honest sincerity, she stepped forward into his embrace.

She looked up at him frightened, whispering, "I don't know how much longer I can keep it together. I know you probably don't want to deal with me being upset and emotions, so if you're gonna leave do it now."

"Lisa, I'm not leaving," he promised. He pulled her head against his chest and buried his face in her hair. He held the fragile creature that was once Lisa Cuddy in his arms.

Once securely wrapped in his strong arms, Cuddy let her tears start to fall. She clung to him, desperately. She knew House hated when she got emotional and tried her best to stay quiet and not let him realize how upset she was.

"Lisa," he said, brokenly. He knew he could be an ass, but he was doing everything he could to be strong for her. This was one of the rare times that he hoped she would open up to him.

She pulled back wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm just being a baby." She tried to compose herself, but it was obvious she just didn't have it in her. He took her face in his hands. "No you're not. I'm so proud of you, Lisa…what you went through tonight…how you held yourself together…you're amazing."

She laid her head back down and wept quietly, letting him take away whatever pain he could. They stood there in her kitchen clinging to each other. They were the only security each other had.


	3. Chapter 3

Cuddy pulled back from their embrace and smiled at him feebly. "What did they give me?" she asked, nodding towards the brown paper bag sitting on her kitchen table. They'd told her at the hospital, but she hadn't been able to concentrate on what they'd said.

House snatched the med bag up and peeked inside. Pulling the bottle out, he shrugged his approval and said, "Darvocet." He looked her once over and could tell she was in pain again, the ibprofruen she'd taken at the hospital was already wearing off. He didn't understand why she felt the need to remain in pain. She had refused all prescription medications at the hospital for pain, sleep, or anxiety. "Want one?"

Cuddy hesitated. She was in pain, but it wasn't unbearable. She needed to stay in control. Cuddy knew that this would be a hard situation for her to deal with and a foggy brain would only make it worse. "Not yet," she said, still eyeing the medicine.

House tossed the pills haphazardly back on the table. He could sense her uncertainty, but wasn't going to push her. She would take them when she was ready. He knew she needed the control. His thoughts were broken by Cuddy's voice.

"I think I want to change," she said, meekly.

House nodded, "Okay." He was trying to stay gentle and quiet with her. He knew in time she would want their normal banter back, but right now, her defenses were down. She needed someone to take care of her.

She fidgeted nervously, before asking, "Will you walk with me?"

House internally chastised himself for being so dense. "She'd have to walk right past the living room to get to her bedroom. Snatching her pills off the table, he grabbed her hand and led her down the hall. He made sure that he stayed between her and the room, as they walked quickly past it.

Cuddy moved around her room gathering clothes. Not having reminders of her night in this room, she had seemed to find a small sense of confidence. "I'll just be a minute," she said, calmly.

House nodded and sat down on her bed. He sighed, as the bathroom door shut. He could practically see her walls were starting to crumble. He knew the night would be long, but he was ready to be there for her.

Cuddy changed quickly. She had grabbed yoga pants and a t-shirt. The outfit was simple and relaxed. She needed every bit of ease she could find. Cuddy glanced at her claw-footed tub thinking. She'd already taken a shower at the hospital after they had examined her. Glancing at the bathroom door, she bit her lip.

House waited on the bed, trying to stay put. He knew she might just want a few moments to herself, but he was concerned. Rationalizing that she might need him, he started to get up. He made his way to the door and knocked softly. "Cuddy? You okay in there?"

Cuddy sat in her bathtub, staring at the door. Taking a deep composing breath, she said, "Come on in." She knew he would worry to death if he couldn't see that she was alright.

House slowly opened the door, not sure, if he was ready for what lay on the other side. He did his best to hide his smirk, when he found Cuddy sitting in her bathtub.

"Hi," she said, a little embarrassed. She wasn't sure why she was sitting there, except that it felt safe. She was closed off from the rest of the world.

Studying her fully clothed form in the empty tub, he replied, "Hi." They exchanged soft understanding smiles. He knew all too well about hiding. "Want some company in there?"

Thinking he only meant to stay in the bathroom she nodded yes. She didn't really want to be around anyone, but House was different. He had saved her and she would forever feel loyal to him.

Making his way to the oversized tub, he grinned down at her. "Alright move over," he said, sitting on the side of the tub.

"House, your leg," Cuddy protested, as he pivoted his legs to the inside of the tub.

"Shh," House scolded, as he lowered himself into the tub across from her.

Despite the darker events of her night and the pain aching in her abdomen, Cuddy couldn't help but grin at the sweet gesture. "So," she said, shyly.

"How are you feeling?" House asked, genuinely concerned.

Cuddy looked down at her arms. They were tentatively hugging her stomach. "A little sore," she said, sounding ashamed.

"Well here," he pulled her pill bottle out and opened it. Grabbing her hand, he shook a pill into her palm. Doing the same with his own medicine, he tapped his hand against hers. "Cheers," he said, smiling half-heartedly.

Both doctors dry swallowed their pills. Cuddy struggled swallowing hers, but got it down. She tried to smile at him again, once more needing to reassure him that she was okay. However, both knew she wasn't.

House wanted to draw her into his arms and never let her go, but he knew she needed time. Noticing the towel rack next to him, he grabbed one off it. He unfolded the towel, feeling Cuddy's eyes watching him curiously the whole time. Leaning forward, he tucked the towel around her legs and stomach being as careful as possible.

Cuddy couldn't help but melt at the thoughtful gesture. He was doing everything he could, to help her feel safe and secure, once more. She gave him a genuine smile of gratitude, as he finished.

"That was really smart how you called me," he said, pulling the shower curtain closed. They sat cocooned in the soft glow from the overhead light.

Cuddy closed her eyes and enjoyed the deep melodic sound of his voice. "Thanks," she said blandly.

It crushed him to hear such defeat in her voice. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here faster," he said, quietly.

She met his gaze with a passionate fury. "You _saved_ me," she insisted, shocked at his reaction.

House shook his head no, looking down at his lap, "I heard him Cuddy. This was because you stood by me. If I hadn't been such a bastard-"

Cuddy reached forward and grabbed his hands, smiling. "House, I made my own choices. I don't regret them."

House simply nodded. Despite his own logic against guilt, he still felt it. Now was not the time to focus on accountability, she needed him.

"Wilson," she laughed bitterly, "I still can't believe it. House, I have never seen him look like that before." It unnerved her that someone they knew for so long could hurt her that way.

"I know," he said, quietly. Neither could figure out how their friend could change so drastically without them realizing.

Cuddy's hands fidgeted nervously. "House, will you… can I…," she struggled to find the right words.

He watched her inner turmoil and decided to step in. He wasn't normally one to offer comfort let alone give it, but she had always been his exception. "Anything," he urged, squeezing her hand gently.

She met his gaze, her sadness nearly drowning him. "Hold me?" she begged.

Right then, he felt a part of his heart crack. "Lisa," he whispered, tugging on her hands. His face displayed an open vulnerability that even she hadn't seen before.

Being mindful of his leg, she crawled into his lap. She was noticeably trembling and for the first time that night, she didn't care if it showed. She was at that moment both weak and vulnerable. She needed him more than she ever had before.

"I've got you, he whispered. He reached down and grabbed the towel that had fallen off her. Wrapping it around her shoulders and back, he hugged her close. Holding her trembling form in his arms awakened his protective nature. He pulled her head down to his shoulder. "It's okay to cry Lise," he said softly, into her hair.

She nodded against him. This was what she needed. His strong arms, above anything else, made her feel safe. "I know it's over and he's gone, but I'm still so scared." She wasn't used to feeling anything other than in control. The distress she was feeling, completely erased any anticipation they might have from such an unusual closeness.

House didn't know what to say. He just rocked her gently, trying not to let his own emotions get carried away. He felt her slowly start to relax, as his motions calmed her. Just when he thought she had started to drift off in his arms, she jerked back awake.

Even with him there, holding her, she couldn't let her guard down yet. It was the only control she had left. "How long did you stay on the phone?" she asked, nervously.

"The whole time," he answered, calmly. He wasn't actually thinking about where this line of questioning would lead.

Cuddy stayed quiet for a moment, before murmuring "Oh." She was mortified that he'd overheard the whole thing, not even recalling half of what she had said. "Why?" she asked, curiously. It wasn't exactly a conversation most people would listen to.

"I know it didn't make a difference," he said, his voice lulling her once more, "But I couldn't get to you fast enough, and I didn't want you to be alone."

She started to cry against his chest. The simple act meant so much to her. He'd listened to something that she was sure was hard on him, just for her. "Thank you," she whimpered, understanding how hard it must have been.

"Shh," he urged, hugging her tighter. Her crying tore him up. He briefly regretted not killing Wilson. He wanted him to hurt ten times more than she was. This should have never happened to her. He couldn't help, but blame himself.

"Oh god," she said softly, as the realization hit her. "You heard everything." Her whole body tensed, as she suggested to pull away. The things Wilson had suggested and the things she herself had agreed upon and said were all coming back to her. She began to panic, trying to get away.

"Cuddy stop," he said firmly, drawing her close once more. "Just stop Lisa."

She did what he asked, but the tears came fiercely. Meeting his gaze only intensified the shame she felt.

"It's okay Lisa," he said, calmly. House unleashed his grip on her and allowed her to crash against his chest once more.

She turned her face against his neck, as her hands clung to his shoulders. Hanging on to the very man she was trying to hide from, she sobbed herself into a state of exhaustion. The reality of the situation was too much in her weakened state.

House knew better than to try to reason with her. That would only seem patronizing to the intelligent woman he held. Instead, h settled for rocking her, as best he could, in the crowded tub. It was a small comfort, but one he thought she would take comfort in. After what seemed like hours, she stilled, going heavy in his arms.

"How can you feel bad for me after what I said?" she asked, defeated. Her voice was hoarse from the constant crying.

"Lisa," he drew her name out in frustration, "There is absolutely nothing wrong with what you said. Fantasizing about something happening in a controlled situation doesn't mean you warrant or want it for real." There was no way he was going to let her rationalize this into being her fault.

"I wouldn't have cared if it was you tonight instead of Wilson. I wouldn't have cared about a controlled environment," she said, sounding appalled at herself. She needed him to understand the difference. She wouldn't care if House hurt her, she loved him that much.

He tried to rub her back calmly, hoping to relax her. She stayed tense in his arms no matter how much he wished otherwise. "It wouldn't have been forced then. What happened tonight was. What Wilson did to you was unacceptable. More than that," he said, cupping her face and staring deep into her eyes, "You have nothing to feel bad about."

"You really mean that don't you?" she asked, truly surprised. Normally House would have a field day at what her remarks had suggested tonight. Instead, he had shown her that despite what she convinced herself, she was innocent and not to blame.

House didn't answer. He just rolled his eyes and hugged her tightly. "We sleeping in the tub?" he asked playfully, while she yawned against his neck.

Cuddy just nodded her head smiling. "Yup, I'm comfy," she giggled.

House laughed and ran his fingers through her hair. "You're not comfy, you're high!"

Cuddy laughed again, trying to hide her face. "No," she squealed.

"You are, aren't you?" he said, surprised. He had only been teasing her, but she, unlike him, wasn't used to such strong medicine.

Ignoring his question, she cuddled closer to him. Pulling the towel tighter around her, she relaxed against his chest.

House growled in her ear playfully, "I am NOT a teddy bear Lisa."

Cuddy couldn't help laughing again, as she hugged him tighter. "Promise I won't tell," she said, sleepily. She didn't want to move. House felt safe and warm to her. She knew as long as he held her nothing bad would happen again.

Dipping his head, House kissed her forehead. "Come on, time to get up." Noticing her pout, he continued, "I can barely walk on my own, I can't carry your drugged self to the bedroom as well." He nudged her gently until she started moving.

"Not drugged Greg," she whined, never once letting go of his hand. "Stay with me?" she asked, looking at him more seriously.

House nodded and followed her to the bedroom. There was no way he was leaving her alone. He helped her into bed, before stripping down to his boxers. He was starting to feel tired himself and hoped she was as exhausted as she looked.

Cuddy lay in bed watching him. She was surprised that she didn't feel at all uncomfortable with House, climbing into her bed. She knew that he would never hurt her. Cuddy rubbed her hands along her upper arms. The medicine made her skin feel crawly. It was hot, cold and tingly all at the same time.

When House had laid down, he felt her wiggle closer to him. "Hi," he said softly, rolling on to his side.

"Hi," she smiled bashfully. She watched the simple smile wash across his features.

House tenderly reached up and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He was surprised when she rolled over away from him. He waited curiously, watching to see what she was up to.

Backing up against him, she asked, "Hold me?" She was exhausted from the events of the evening; the medicine only made it worse.

"I suppose," he teased, slipping an arm under her neck. He wrapped his other arm around her and gently rubbed her belly. "Sleep now Lisa," he whispered, placing a chaste kiss against her neck.


	4. Chapter 4

House lay in Cuddy's bed holding her. It was quiet for nearly ten minutes, before he heard her stifled giggling. "Cuddy," he growled, "You're supposed to be sleeping." He had expected her to drift off easily. It had been a strenuous night. House knew the next day would be demanding. He had wanted to make sure they both rested.

"I'm not tired," Cuddy said, flipping over to face him. Lying on her stomach, she propped herself up on her elbows to grin down at him. She chuckled softly, as he glared at her. "I'm not," she said defensively. "Well, okay physically I'm exhausted, but mentally," she paused, briefly, "not so much."

House groaned and teasingly said, "But I wanna sleep moooom." Seeing her smirk once more, he felt himself relax a little. He understood that it was mostly the drugs, but this was still his Cuddy. He had been worried, for the first time ever, that she might have found something she couldn't handle. It would be a long road to recovery, but he was sure she was going to be all right.

"Please stay up with me," she pleaded, sitting on her knees. Tugging on his hand, she tried to pull him up into a sitting position. "The medicine is making me feel funny. I don't want to be alone," she added, trying to play on whatever shred of guilt he might feel.

Rolling his eyes, House sat up and scooped her into his arms. "Don't feel funny to me," he said, holding her sideways against his chest. Glancing down at her, he realized how close their faces were. He studied her eyes for a moment, they were wide and curious, but absent of any fear. Smothering from the intensity, he awkwardly sat her back upright.

Cuddy squealed happily at his movements, despite the flash of pain. "It makes my skin feel weird," she said, a little more serious. She looked down at her lap, becoming completely solemn. "I don't know how to process tonight," she quietly said.

House didn't know how to respond. He hadn't even gotten his head around the idea of Wilson raping Cuddy. Just the thought of Wilson, infuriated him. Trying to think of something practical to tell her, he left them in a lingering silence.

Forcing herself to stay functional, Cuddy playfully nudged House's shoulder with her own. "I'm hungry," she said, looking at him shyly. She wasn't ready to think about what had happened. She already regretted bringing it back up. The last thing she wanted was for House to shut down on her.

"I suppose that means we have to get up," he said, looking at her questioningly. He knew she would open up when she was ready. Not that he really wanted to be the one she opened up to. He would rather not deal with an emotional irrational Cuddy. He didn't really have any choice though. House knew he didn't want her to go to a stranger with this.

Cuddy pretended to pout, until he groaned and moved off the bed. Grinning at her victory, she climbed off the bed and leading him towards the kitchen. She took her time walking, trying to forget why her body was so sore. "I want a grilled cheese," she told House, grinning over her shoulder at him. She hoped her request would take away from her slow steps and careful gait.

He noticed her abnormal stance and felt the sadness clutch at him. Knowing that pity was not something she would allow, he smirked back at her. "It's a good thing you know the way around your own kitchen then." He laughed at the crushed look on her face, as he also noticed the glint of mischief hidden under the surface. This was how they operated, even in the dismal situations life threw at them.

Stopping in the middle of the kitchen, Cuddy turned around to face him. Stepping inside his personal space, she looked up at him begging, "Pleeeeease." She knew he didn't like her that close under normal circumstances and was using it to her full advantage.

"Nope," House said, trying to hold his ground. "Not gonna happen Cuddy." He stared down at her holding her gaze, playfully. "I'm tired, I want to go to bed, and I don't cooking. Make it yourself." He glared down at her, trying not to melt every time she smiled at him.

Cuddy let out a small whine. Then looking up at him coyly, she said, "But yours taste better." She grinned up at him, seeing his resolve melt away. When he sighed loudly, she added, "With pickles." Grinning at him, she started to gather the things he would need.

House let out a small growl, but headed towards the stove. "I hate pickles," he grumbled, pulling her frying pan out from under the oven. He turned the stove on and started to melt a little of the butter she handed him inside the pan.

"Well it's a good thing it's not for you," she teased. Setting the bread out on the counter she made up four sandwiches, knowing he was probably hungry. House never passed up food. Opening the jar of pickles, she pulled a few of the half-dollar sized slices out. Laying them on a paper towel for afterwards, she put the jar back in the fridge.

"Got any chips?" he asked, as she wandered over to the pantry. He was greeted a moment later, with a fresh bag of the salty snacks shaking in his face. "You keep junk food in the house?" he asked, accusingly. "Cuddles I'm shocked."

"I haven't changed all that much," she said. Eyeing the counter she thought about sitting on, she decided it would be a bad idea. As sore as she was already, the jerky movements would be more than a little painful. The medicine was working great, but she still felt some pain.

Studying Cuddy, he realized her dilemma. She was facing the counter, obviously thinking about hopping onto it. Setting the pan down on one of the cool burners, he stepped over to move behind her. "Turn around, pickle princess," he said, close to her ear.

Surprised by his nearness, she jumped slightly. Turning in his arms, she quickly became lost in his eyes. There was more sincerity and honest concern in them, and then she had ever seen before. She couldn't help, but melt as his hangs gripped her waist firmly.

Lifting Cuddy onto the counter with only his arm strength was only a slight strain. She barely weighed anything. "Geeze Cuddy, what have you been eating? I could bench-press you," he boasted. There was no way he could do something sweet and leave it alone, she would start getting weepy on him again.

Crossing her ankles, she laughed throatily. His hands rested gently above her knees, neither of them certain if they wanted to break the contact. She stared into his eyes once more, thinking about how much he had done for her that evening. What he hadn't shown in gesture, he showed in mannerisms. He was being gentle with her, protective even. As her eyes began to water, her stomach growled loudly.

The moment was gone. Smirking at the irony, he teased, "I guess you do need that sandwich, after all." He watched as the blush crept to her cheeks and she looked to her lap. Moving back to the stove, he dropped the first two sandwiches onto the pan and began cooking.

Cuddy watched House, lovingly. He really was everything she had ever wanted in a partner, even his gruff mannerisms. Grabbing the bag of chips next to her, she opened the package and ate a few as she waited.

"You know those cause anal leakage?" House asked, grinning at her. He was only mildly disappointed when instead of being grossed out, she rolled her eyes and popped a few more chips into her mouth.

"Grow up House," she smirked at him. Seeing that his hands were full, she held out a few chips towards his mouth in offering. She laughed, as he hungrily lunged towards the food.

He grabbed the chips with his mouth, stifling a groan, as he tasted her soft delicate fingers. "It's true," he said, through a mouthful of chips. He didn't want her to realize what he had been doing or feel out of place by it. He wasn't trying to take advantage of her, she was just too desirable to resist.

Flipping the first two sandwiches onto a plate, he put the next ones in the pan. He turned to Cuddy and offered her the plate, "Your majesty."

Cuddy laughed, but pouted softly. She shook her head no. Realizing he was confused, she whined, "You forgot my pickles."

"Cuddy," he growled. "I don't wanna touch them. They scare me," he said with mock fear. Seeing her roll her eyes, he added, "They're slimy, and green."

"Please Greg," she pleaded, with such sincerity that she surprised herself. She wasn't usually a needy person, but something about House's attention quickly mixed her senses. She loved when he took care of her and made her his sole focus. Even though the medicine was beginning to wear off, she could always blame her actions on being high.

Sighing dramatically, he grabbed the paper towel and pickles. She reached for them, but he swatted her hand away. Lifting the top of first one then the other, he covered the gooey cheese of both sandwiches with the offending items. "There, now eat and get sleepy. We're going back to bed after this. You need to rest Lisa."

"Thank you," she said, slightly embarrassed. The darkness of the night was beginning to wash over her once more. She ate her sandwich in silence, as her mind wandered in a direction she didn't like. She jumped, as House's deep voice seemed to echo through her kitchen.

"How's the pain?" he asked, turning the stove off. He took the two sandwiches he had made for himself and moved in front of her. Standing between her legs, he started to eat the first sandwich.

"It's starting to hurt again," she said, timidly. Between her own thoughts and the pain aching, she was near tears, once more. Setting her plate down with one sandwich still left, she looked at him scared. "I don't want to keep hurting," she all but whispered.

"Cuddy," he said, brokenly. Cupping her face, he touched their foreheads together. "If I could take it away I would. When he felt her nod, he leaned back and pulled one of her pills from his pocket. "Take this now, before the other wears off completely." He grabbed a bottle of water out of her fridge and brought it back to her, while polishing off his first sandwich.

Cuddy swallowed the pill gratefully. She wasn't ready to handle anything yet. She smiled gratefully at House; he would be there when it was time. He had done everything he could to ease her pain that evening. She would always love him for it. Seeing him finish his second grilled cheese and a glass of milk, she asked, "Bed time?"

"Bedtime," House agreed, as he walked to her. Helping her down of the cabinet, he let her lead the way. Dishes could be left until morning, his main concern was Cuddy. As she headed out of the kitchen, he snatched the remaining sandwich and took a bite. Following her into the bedroom he grinned, the pickles weren't half-bad.


	5. Chapter 5

asdf

asf

Cuddy woke up sore in muscles she didn't even realize she had. Trying to roll onto her back, she realized two things. First, she felt like she had been run over. Second, someone was pressed up against her back. The human mind had always amazed her. She had briefly considered going into psychology her third year of college, but realized she was even more interested in the hands on workings of healing. Still, when her brain processed who was in her bed before processing why he was there, she was truly grateful.

Trying to settle back into his warmth, she ignored the pain throbbing throughout her body. House was there and taking care of her. It was something that she had never expected, but was still easily acceptable under the circumstance. She felt safe. How could he hurt her more than Wilson had? Her trust was broken, yet, for some reason, House was trustable.

It was easy to forget the sore muscles and bruised skin. It was far more difficult to ignore the internal pain, that was currently intensified by her need to pee. Lifting House's arm off her stomach, she tried not to wake him as she extricated herself from his embrace and her warm bed.

"Where you going?" House mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He wasn't fully awake, but had a better grasp on the situation than Cuddy did. Propping himself up against her headboard, House checked his watch. It was six-thirty. Not as late as he would have liked, but he figured this was probably sleeping in for Cuddy. She was due for medicine, anyways.

"Bathroom," Cuddy said, voice still husky from sleep. Smiling at his tired features, she was overwhelmed by his generosity through all this. Heading to the bathroom, she thought about the few time's she had seen him like this. House didn't let many people into his world, but when he did, he gave them his all. They may not know it, but he was more loyal and protective than most.

Spinning so that his feet were on the floor, House rubbed his thigh. Working the flesh, he stimulated the blood flow until he was satisfied. Groaning his displeasure, House stood up and headed towards the kitchen. The grilled cheese sandwich's they'd had the night before, were not exactly the amount of food he was used to.

Opening up her freezer, he was met with a vast lacking of microwavable food. Instead, there were several Tupperware containers of various frozen concoctions. Closing that, he moved onto the fridge. Pulling out some orange juice, he twisted off the cap and drank straight from the carton.

"House!" Cuddy screeched, causing him to choke. Walking over to him, both arms crossed over her chest in mild irritation. She watched, as he struggled to hold the carton while retrieving two pills for her to take. Arching an eyebrow at him, she took the pills from him, but continued to stare incredulously.

"Here," he said, shoving the carton in her direction. When she made no move to take it, he dramatically took his shirt and wiped off where his mouth had been. "Better?" he asked, as if she were being irrational.

Glaring at him in true Lisa Cuddy fashion, she took the orange juice, popped the pills into her mouth, and tilted the carton against her own lips. "Wilson eats after you and he's still alive," she said, briefly forgetting that things had changed. Staring at the tile in front of her, she froze.

An eerie silence washed over them, while House waited for her reaction. He didn't know how to respond. Waiting seemed to be the safest option. When she looked up at him helplessly with tears in her eyes, he knew. Placing the orange juice on the counter, he wrapped his arms around her and let her cry.

"It hurts," she said, as the tears began to flow freely. It wasn't the physical pain she was referring to. She knew House would understand the venomous sting of betrayal that she felt. Her hands balled up on his chest, as his hand cupped the back of her head drawing her closer.

"You're safe now, Lisa," he said, obviously pained. It was the only thing he could think of to say to her. Drawing her closer, he realized that he felt better with her in his arms. "You're safe," he urged again, quietly. It was reassurance for himself, as well as her.

As her cries became more broken, she felt House tuck her face against his shoulder. She could feel him holding her closer and knew it was just as much to muffle her cries, as it was to offer comfort. He did not deal with emotions well. When the tears refused to ease her pain, she knew she had to try something else.

Throughout her life, Lisa Cuddy had always taken action. She was not a victim. Crying and pain were understandable, but they weren't productive. She needed to _do_ something. Steeling her nerves, she pulled back from House's embrace. Attempting to smile up at him, she rose to her toes and kissed his cheek in thanks.

House inwardly readied himself. He knew she would be like this. He couldn't deny that he himself would rather lean towards denial than any other coping mechanism. She was different. Burying this away inside would not help her. She would end up broken and lost. Stopping her was something that would be near suicidal, but he had no choice. Watching her head out of the kitchen, he dejectedly followed.

House had seen her wheels turning. She had a plan of some sorts. His only desire was to make sure it wasn't a harmful plan. He had known her for twenty-something years. Giving up control was something she had never been able to accept. What Wilson had put her through, went against all her instincts.

Moving determinedly towards her living room, Cuddy seemed to tune out House's presence completely. She stood motionless in the doorway. Her features were blank, but here eyes were locked onto the couch. Just a few hours ago, she couldn't even walk past the room. Now, her plans were much more involved.

"Cuddy," House said, before she could take her first step. When she showed no reaction, he tried again. Reaching out to grab her arm, he spoke quietly, "Lisa, leave it alone." Her muscles tensed under his fingertips and he held his breath.

"Leave it alone?" she hissed, as she snapped around to face him. "Leave it alone?" her voice rose in both pitch and volume. "I was raped on that." Motioning at the couch, her eyes never left his.

"You're right," he said, with intensity in his voice that bordered passionate. "You were raped on that and it was _horrible_. The couch is not what you're angry at. Throwing out the piece of furniture is not the answer!" He shook his head in frustration.

"So what I'm supposed to just keep it? That's rich," she scoffed. She was angry and frustrated, but she knew he was right. There would always be reminders: the couch, the room, her home, her hospital. Dropping her head in defeat, she quietly asked, "What do I do?"

House stared in shock for a moment. He hadn't expected her to give up so easily. Taking her hand tentatively in his, he quietly said, "I don't know." Gingerly he pulled her to him bit-by-bit until she was once again in his grasp. "I don't have the answers Lisa, but you can't just push this memory away. We have to learn to live with it."

Cuddy clung to him with a desperation she had never before felt. He was her rock and her strength. He was her support and her savior. Hugging against him, she let him take the pain away from her momentarily.

"Come on," House said, suddenly. He pulled back and grinned down at her. "I got an idea."

Staring at him strangely, she gave into his lunacy and let him lead her to the front door.


End file.
